


Anything That Gets Your Blood Racing (Is Probably Worth Doing)

by RighteousRiot



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 'Sorry I'll Be Better But We Both Know I Won't..." Confessions, 'Stop Being a Reckless Jackass!' Moments, All the Usual Cliches, Battle Angst, Couch Sex, General Angst, Like I Said...All the Usuals, M/M, PWP, Torn Uniforms, Wall Sex, Worried boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 13:19:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15462243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RighteousRiot/pseuds/RighteousRiot
Summary: Given how often things went sideways for the two of them, Bucky thinks he should be used to this. To the way his chest seizes up like it's seconds away from arrest, like his heart is finally gonna kick the bucket this time. He thinks, it shouldn't still hurt this much.





	Anything That Gets Your Blood Racing (Is Probably Worth Doing)

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno, man. I'd love to write some big, creative, plot filled story but my head is generally just filled up with this kind of nonsense. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Words written in all CAPS indicated what would normally just be italicized...cause I can't ever format properly on my phone.

On a scale of one to ten, Bucky would say that his day started out at a solid seven, maybe even verging into eight territory. He had slept in, letting the morning shafts of sunlight curl warmly over his skin, their windows thrown open to the mild summer weather. Steve had been beside him, offering only a token protest, a quiet "Was gonna run this morning, Buck" before he let Bucky settle him back down against the sheets. Let him run sleep warmed metal fingertips up and down his side until it finally tickled too much. Bucky could have pushed for more, he knew. Steve was so sweet and soft on mornings like this, his eyes like big blue saucers and mouth open in silent request for a kiss. It would have been easy to lean up over him and work them both into a quick sweat. Instead he let his eyes flutter closed, leaned in against Steve's neck and inhaled deeply against that golden perfect skin. He felt Steve go boneless beside him, felt it as they both drifted back to sleep. His last thoughts were of the big breakfast they would have when they woke up, maybe spend the whole day in pjs in front of the tv. Just him and his very best guy.

Which, naturally, is when things started to rapidly fall apart. Instead of the gentle wake up Bucky had been imagining, the sounds of the Avenger's call to action bell sent them both vaulting out of bed in a panic less than an hour later. Steve was still half asleep as he crashed blindly into their closet, jerking hangers aside in search of his uniform. 

And Bucky mentally downgraded his day from an eight to a six.

Thirty minutes later and things had only gotten worse. It wasn't that Bucky didn't enjoy his work with the Avengers. He DID. It made him feel useful, good...it was almost like the old days. The problem was, Steve hadn't gotten any less stubborn since the old days. Or any less reckless...any less completely OUT of his mind when in a fight. He hadn't ever stopped sacrificing his dumb ass like he was going for the world record in giving Bucky chest pains. And, you know, given how often things went sideways for the two of them, Bucky thinks he should be used to it. To the way his chest seizes up like it's seconds away from arrest, like his heart is finally gonna kick the bucket this time. He thinks, it shouldn't still hurt this much. But it always does, always will and so seconds after he sees Steve get corned, from high up on his snipers perch, sees him get backed into an ally by several of this week's idiots hell bent on destroying the city, he's screaming down the line to "Hold tight, Stevie. I'm coming to get you!" There's the immediate squawking protest from his teammates, protesting his volume on the coms and tell him to hold his own position, that someone closer will move in for Cap, but it's all white noise. THAT part, at least, Bucky is used to ignoring. 

Down out of his perch in record time and Bucky is sprinting through the street, dodging already downed enemies and the smaller skirmishes still going on with his teammates. He skids into the ally Steve disappeared down and thinks, fuck, this day wasn't a six. It was a four at best. Hell, it was a fucking three and sinking fast. 

Steve was pinned up against the dirty ally wall, muscled back by a couple of the goon squad's biggest guys and a third pressing some kind of high powered taser mercilessly into Steve's belly. His uniform had been torn in the scuffle, likely from the wicked blade he could see glinting in one of the thug's hands, probably used in some failed attempt to spill Steve's guts. The skin of his stomach, the soft skin Bucky had run his fingers over only hours before was now red and blotchy with quickly forming bruises. A thin line of blood trickled out from where the blade had come close to accomplishing its goal and that fucking taser...it was leaving behind what could only be described as burns. 

Bucky moved quickly and silently, every inch the assassin he had spent so many years perfecting. He grabbed Taser's arm, crushing the frail wrist bones under his metal grip. The man screamed, once, before Bucky drove his other fist into his face and put him down for good. By then the other two soon-to-be-deads had released their grip on Steve, who had slumped forward but was making efforts to recover. Sweat glistened on their faces and Bucky took a moment to enjoy that, to savor how these two pathetic beings, these two who had dared to lay hands on Steve, now knew that they were completely and utterly fucked. Then, just as quick as before, he had them both. A gun aimed high on one man's forehead and metal fingers wrapped around the other's neck. Pop, squeeze and it was done. 

Bucky tucked a gentle finger under Steve's chin, still propped up against the wall, and tipped the blonde's eyes up to meet his own. "Stevie, I swear to Christ above..." he started, the second he saw a flash of blue. "I swear to GOD, Steve! I don't know if I can do this anymore. We started at an EIGHT! A goddamned eight and look us now. In the trash, Steve! You all banged up, I don't know why I'm surprised! You can't fight clean just once? JUST ONCE let someone have your back the whole damn fight? You know where we are now, Stevie? Negative! Three! This day is a negative fucking THREE!" 

Steve, who had been watching Bucky for his whole little outbust, went from slightly bewildered to just this side of amused. He couldn't help it, he knew Bucky was right. Had been in his position often enough to know it well, himself. But he couldn't help it, couldn't help the way the corner of his mouth curled up a little as he reached out to grip Bucky's uniform with one hand, as he pulled him closer. "Buck..." he said, licking at the blood from a split lip. "What the fuck are you talking about? What's a negative three?" 

And that was it. Bucky was done. He hauled Steve's arm over his shoulder, feeling only slightly bad at the muffled protest and half marched, half limped Steve out of the alleyway. The rest of the Avengers were gathered at it's entrance, having apparently finished the fight and been drawn closed buy their raised voices. Or rather, BUCKY'S raised voice, at least. "We're going home now" he said shortly, bypassing his teammates with none of the usual after fight celebrating. Steve was tucked closed to his side, his face turned away in what he just knew was an 'aw shucks, did I turn myself into a target AGAIN? Well at least we won!' expression tailor made for their friends. The kind of look that suggested its wearer was sorry but had absolutely no intention of changing in the future. 

By the time they made it back to their front door, Steve was on his way to mending. His limp less pronounced, some of the cuts closed up, the busing a bit lighter. Well enough healed that Bucky felt zero guilt about bushing Steve roughly up against the wall the second their door closed. He felt more that heard Steve's answering moan rumble through his chest. Part plain and part something else, Steve always getting that little extra bit of pleasure when his muscles ached a little. Said it made it so he could feel Bucky more, his every move echoed through his body with a higher intensity. 

Bucky gripped first one, then both of Steve's legs just behind the knee and hefted him up. Pressed his shoulder blades hard against the wall and tipped his hips so that they fit together perfectly. Made it so Steve had to grab his shoulders tight to help keep his balance. Bucky rocked his hips a little, let Steve get just a taste through their thick uniforms before he leaned forward for a savage kiss. His teeth nipped at Steve's bottom lip, the corner of his jaw, bit deep at the tendons that stood out in his neck until Steve was calling out his name. "You just...you make me so mad, Stevie" he breathed out. "You make me crazy and what am I supposed to do, huh? What am I supposed to do with you?" 

Steve's face was soft now, like this morning. Fond. He ran ringer's through Bucky's wild hair, scratching lightly at the base of his neck in apology. "I know, Buck. I know. Next time I'll be better, alright? Next time I'll stay with the others. You know I'll try." And he would. He WOULD try. It didn't matter that the both of them knew it wasn't in Steve's nature to not put himself first, out on the front lines. To put himself in front of his friends, every single chance he got, if it meant saving them from a blow. Bucky would do the same and that was just the hell of it. They would be dancing this same dance for as long as the world would have them. 

Bucky nodded a little at Steve's words, leaned in to the hand against his face and tried to let go of what remained of his worried anger. He leaned in for another kiss, sweeter this time. Pressing his lips against Steve's and licking at the seam until Steve opened up to meet him. Kissed at his high cheekbones, his eyelids, the bridge of his nose. Kissed until his chest felt tight again, for a different reason. Seized up under the weight of his love now, instead of worry. He pulled Steve's body closer to him, chest to chest and carried the other man over to the couch. Laid him out like a perfect prize, blissed out and already reach for Bucky again. 

He was careful as he removed what was left of Steve's uniform, peeling the scraps of fabric away to show pale smooth skin marked up with blemishes of the fight. Evidence that would all be gone by morning. Bucky laid his hand over the worst of it, the damage done Steve's stomach. He felt the heated blush of the wounds under his palm and wished that his touch alone could take it away. Then he kissed those spots too, lips so gentle over the damage. Let Steve pet at his hair the whole time, whisper reassurances. "Its okay, Buck" he said, over and over again. "You know I'll be okay."

Bucky took off his own uniform then and laid himself gently over Steve, taking most of his weight on his forearms pressed hard into the cushions. The urgency of before was trickling back into his system, sending static shocks up and down his spine. He pressed his hips down hard, pulling a rough gasp from Steve. "More" Steve huffed, baring his throat at the same time. "Buck. More, now. Please!" Needing no more encouragement, Bucky rolled his hips smoothly against Steve's, shifting until they were lined up perfectly. He reached down with one hand and encouraged Steve to spread out his legs more, curl one along the back of his calfs. He hitched that leg higher, grabbing Steve behind his knee, just like before. Thrust in harder, kissed every gasp out of Steve's mouth. "You close, Stevie?" he asked. "C'mon, baby. C'mon, sweetheart. Just let it go. I ain't even mad anymore, just want you to feel good. Come for me, huh, Stevie? Know you're so close..."

That was all it took for the trembling in Steve's thighs to upgade to full on shakes, for his body to follow suit and fall apart under Bucky. Steve moaned through it, nails clawing red welts across Bucky's lower back and ribs. His chest heaved, like it did back in the day, when he really had to struggle for breath and then Steve's hands were tight on Bucky's hips, encouraging him along. "You now, Bucky. You always take such good care of me but now it's your turn. Want you to feel good too...wanna feel that. C'mon Buck, love you so much. More than anyone. C'mon handsome, my handsome guy..."

Bukcy gave one more solid thrust and then it felt like his whole body had pulled tight, each wave that crashed between them bigger than the last. He could breathe through it, couldn't even thing until at last it was over and he was shivering against Steve, completely worn out. He pressed sloppy kisses to whatever skin was in front of him, Steve's chest, his shoulder, the sweaty curl of his side burn against one temple. They were such a pair, the two of them. Stubborn. Reckless. Completely out of their minds when it came to protecting their friends and family. And they weren't likely to change anytime soon. 

But this...if he always got to come back to this. To Steve, wrapped around him and already drifting back to sleep, so close to how they started this day, Bucky fingered maybe that wasn't so bad. One to ten, it broke the scale every damn time.

**Author's Note:**

> Every single time I write a fic I tell myself "Okay this is just gonna be wild fun sex!" and every single time I end up writing schmoopy not super explicit sex instead. SIGH.
> 
> Come say Hi on tumblr at -  
> http://righteousriot.tumblr.com/


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